


How an Ace Pilot Asks a Thief on a Date

by InediblePeriwinkle



Series: How A(n ex) Thief [2]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Companion to HaTL, M/M, Sticks afraid to act on their mutual attraction, other pov, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InediblePeriwinkle/pseuds/InediblePeriwinkle
Summary: Requests! A companion piece to How a(n ex) Thief Loves.Charles and Henry have to renegotiate their end goals and sometimes Charles feels like he just doesn't understand what the pilot has to endure to protect them. Henry tries, however, and there's something really endearing in that.Chapters from Charles' POV
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Series: How A(n ex) Thief [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936354
Comments: 38
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

> You definitely need to read How A(n ex) Thief Loves chapter 5 before reading this or you'll be lost in the context.
> 
> Requested by ricc1! I hope you enjoy this little drabble of the stealing scene from Charles' point of view.

Do you remotely understand what you’re asking me to do? 

Charles knew Ellie and Henry were incredibly sheltered from the shit he had to endure on a daily basis to give them some sort of freedom. He and the General worked in tandem to let them live a sort of normal life but one of the things Charles was _required_ to do was report if they were getting out of hand. 

“Anything that causes a civilian or fellow soldier to get hurt,” Galeforce had told him when they started this up, “Any illegal activity that can cast a shadow on the team. But only that. For God’s sake, don’t come to me because Henry’s stealing pens and putting them in mailboxes again.” 

Charles had fought down a smile. Bored thieves were a menace. 

“Charlie,” The man had given him a pointed look, something so knowing it had made his stomach turn. “I’m trusting you to use your best judgement.” 

He had steeled himself. “Yes, Sir.” 

The General had dismissed him, and Charles had breathed a sigh of relief. He had no idea he’d be forced to use his best judgment quite so soon, for something so serious. 

Henry had worked for the Toppats. Maybe not as a clan member, sure, but this was exactly the sort of thing that would get the team broken up if it came to light. Get Henry detained and interrogated, maybe worse. 

And with him asking Charles this, if it ever came out that he covered it up… 

“I hope you understand what you’re asking me to do,” He told Henry honestly, “Because it’s kind of a big deal.” 

He saw a hopeful look cross the thief’s face. Something slow, slightly suspicious. His hands moved, forming sentences. 

‘You won’t mention it?’ 

He really had no idea. Charles could lose everything. 

But Henry wasn’t altogether wrong. Just because he could probably get the General in their corner didn’t guarantee they’d win. Just that it would be better than if someone found out. 

His hands were tied. 

He exhaled shakily, giving up. “No.” 

There was a beat, a moment where Charles let his answer hang in the air. 

Henry’s hands clawed into his shirt. Charles looked down, meeting the fiercest, smuggest look he’d ever seen cross the other’s face. 

His mind was wiped of every coherent thought. For a moment, he expected Henry to kiss him. 

No, but just as good. Henry brought him in for a tight hug, fingers digging into his back. 

He felt Henry’s chin rest heavily on his shoulder. With the minimal height difference, he fit there comfortably. 

Charles’ heart was about to break out of his chest. He reached up, carefully, not wanting to frighten to flighty thief away. He wrapped his arms around him loose enough that it wasn’t restrictive, just an answer. 

Henry didn’t immediately move back. He remained nestled in his arms. Like he belonged there. 

Charles inhaled slowly, resting his head against Henry’s. He’d never seen Henry hug anyone before. It felt nice. Warm. Right. 

He’d really been worried about this, hadn’t he? 

Henry gently dislodged his arms, taking a few steps back. He looked flushed, embarrassed. He definitely wasn’t meeting his eyes right now. Shy was cute on him. Charles’ heart was fluttering. 

‘I need to apologize to Ellie.’ 

Oof. He laughed, nervously. 

“Yeah,” He said, trying not to wince. “Things uh…got a little tense for a second.” 

Walking into this room tonight had felt like stepping in a debriefing after a cocked-up mission. One where he had to explain where another Blackhawk went to. 

He’d put it off for _days_ , angsting over what to say. He still felt sick over it, but at least they both understood each other. Poor Ellie really got caught in the crossfire. 

‘Thank you,’ Henry was signing, bringing Charles’ rampant train of thought back to the current station, ‘I want to stay here. Do this.’ 

That was the first time he’d heard that from Henry directly. Warmth flooded his stomach. 

“Yeah,” He was openly staring at Henry, he knew it, but he needed to _know_ \- “Me too, you know? We’ve got a good thing going.” 

Henry’s lips twitched, like he was about to scowl and rethought it. 

“It’ll get better,” Charles reassured him, “We’ll get into our groove and everything is going to be great.” 

Henry avoided his eyes but the pilot could still see his smile. The blush was back, revealing just how much he needed to hear the words. 

His heart gushed. He could be more encouraging, he could do that. If Henry needed to be told everything would be alright. 

He was clearly trying, poor guy. This had to be a lot different for him. He was trying. 

“Also uh…” Charles steamrollered ahead, fiddling with Ellie’s forgotten novel, “Thanks for understanding where I’m at.” 

Henry was a selfish person, sometimes childish. He really had tried to explain his side of the story and listen to Charles and he _appreciated_ that. 

He signed something Charles missed, up until the last words. 

‘Military boy.’ 

He snorted. Anyone other time and that might be an insult. Henry still had a fond sort of look on his face. 

“Look, I’ve-” How to explain this? He loved being in the military. He got to do what he loved, well enough that he was special forces only. He could support his family and be proud of what he did on a daily basis. He got to be part of the _best team ever_ with two people he got along with really well and it was fun. They made missions fun. 

He was happy. 

“I’ve been in the army for a long time,” Charles attempted to get all of this across, “I plan on retiring here. If you two don’t kill me first.” 

Honestly. Those moments where they went offline, he really thought that was it. That they’d been shot down and that was all. He’d leapt in because he felt like he literally had no other choice. He had to know. He abandoned everything he’d been trained to do for them. 

_You really have no idea how much I’ve given up for you._

And he would again. And again. Because they were his best friends. 

He was spacing out again, misunderstanding what Henry was trying to sign to him entirely. 

He thought. 

“Say that again?” He demanded, staring at his hands. 

‘Where we are now.’ Yeah? ‘Army?’ 

What the actual fuck, Henry. 

He looked up at him, met his casually confused look. The cleverest idiot he’d ever met in his life. 

“What-” He was going to die. This was it, this is what killed him. “Did you not- you don’t know what branch of the military we’re in?” 

Henry just shrugged, as if that were answer enough. 

Oh my god. Charles tried not to laugh, he really did, fighting the urge to double over and wheeze until he couldn’t breathe. 

“Henry, what branch of the military _I’m_ in?” 

Everything about him screamed Army boy, even out of uniform. 

Henry’s lips twitched like he might laugh. ‘Isn’t the air force where pilots are?’ 

Henry couldn’t have caught him more off guard if he’d suddenly grabbed him and suplexed him into the ground. 

“Oh my god no!” Henry was going to get himself killed around here with that kind of talk. Tears filled his eyes as he tried to breathe through the laughter. “ _Noooooo._ ”

The fucking air force. Was Charles in the fucking air force. 

No he wasn’t, thanks a lot, Henry. Glad you’re paying attention to his life and identity, Jesus Christ.

“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” He could barely breathe, wiping the tears from his face, “Yeah, absolutely do not let anyone else hear you say that.” 

Henry was laughing, shrugging him off. No big deal for him, easy mistake, right? 

He was such an idiot. Charles loved him more than anything. 

Back to normal. Back to them. Charles felt lighter than he had in days. 

“Hey,” He said, deciding to ride the high of relief while it lasted, “Would you, uh, want to do something tomorrow? With me?” He sounded like a fool. “Just, y’know. Kind of us.”

No offense to Ellie, of course, Charles loved her. But she’d understand. This wasn’t exactly friend-friend stuff he was working towards. 

Henry seemed to understand that. He swore the look that crossed his face read more than words. He nodded like he couldn’t get his answer out fast enough. 

Relief flooded him. “Cool. Yeah.” Moron. “Sounds good.” 

Henry rested lazily against the counter, expression in his eyes warm. 

Charles’ stomach squirmed. Alright, he was out. 

“Well,” He shrugged, heart pounding hard in his chest, “I’m going to actually go take a nap. I’ve had a rough day. You don’t even know.”

Rough couple of days, honestly. Henry’s sympathy was super gratifying, though. 

“It’s fine, I’m just glad we’re alright,” He’d really been worried over that. Almost like he’d shaken Henry’s fragile trust. “I’ll come by tomorrow-”

His hand paused in search of his apartment keys. They weren’t there. 

He pulled both of his pockets inside out, no dice. His pant pockets also. 

Henry was watching him. Charles tried not to smile. 

“Henry?” Sneak thief. Second time he’d done that in the past hour. 

The guy tossed his keys over. He was exasperating, honestly. Total pain. 

Henry then held up Charles’ own wallet. The pilot scrunched up his eyebrows, reaching as it was thrown to him also. 

His cellphone was next. His cellphone from _his inside pocket_. Charles patted the pocket even as he stared at it in Henry’s hands. 

It was tossed over also, caught, and Charles felt a bit like the floor was tilting. 

It was sometimes simple to forget that Henry was no common thief. He pulled a few of the best heists of the past two years. Solo. With nothing but reckless abandon and clever hands. 

Henry’s smile was wicked, syrupy sweet. Charles swallowed. 

It took him a second to see what he was holding up. His personal ID from out of his wallet, along with all his cash. He was holding them out to him. To take. 

He felt like he was moving in slow motion, a dream. 

He took them from Henry’s hands, fingers brushing, and that almost knocked him right over. 

His attraction to the thief had been slow burning but _fierce_. Maybe inevitable. He was fearless, crafty, smarmy, full of wit and confidence. 

If Charles had any himself, he’d grab Henry like he had earlier and kiss him on the mouth. Right here. He was flirting with him. Watching him with smug conviction. Daring him to do something. 

“Yeah, okay,” His pulse was in his ears, making it hard to hear. “I get it. You’re a menace.” 

His menace. A total pain the ass to keep around, but a person worth the pain. 

Henry just shrugged, leaning back again without a care in the world. 

“See you tomorrow?” His voice was smooth, even. Sexy. 

Alright, he was getting heated. He had to look like a dumbass, staring at him like this. 

“Yeah,” He laughed, face warming, “Sounds great.” 

Henry said nothing more, letting him escape. 

Charles fled out the door faster than he probably needed to. He forgot to say goodnight. 

He leaned back against the hall, laughing at himself in relief. Oh, man. He had it bad. 

He rubbed his cheeks, like that would get rid of the heat in them, feeling so much better than he had when he first walked into that room. They were totally okay, they understood each other and everything was alright. 

Everything was alright, and he’d had the guts to ask Henry on a date. 

And he’d actually accepted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request by LittleStarryShini, Charles' POV on chapter 7.

Honestly, he was having a really good week. 

He hadn’t seen much of Henry since the outing they took, but he’d waved to the guy around base and he never seemed upset or anything so…

Charles was pretty sure he did a fantastic job. Asked him out on a date, and yeah he got a little awkward there for a second, but he really had a great plan and it went _wonderfully_. 

The look in Henry’s eyes, first of all, when he’d told him they were flying. The way he stared out the window at the coast, entranced, not even noticing Charles enjoying his contentment. 

Standing with him on the coast, arm to arm. Watching a look of absolute peace on Henry’s face, where something soft in Charles wanted to keep it there forever. He deserved to be happy. He’d like to make Henry happy, if that was possible. 

For a second, he really thought about kissing him. You know, just…reaching over there and kissing him on the lips. Slow, though, give him time to tell him to back off if he needed to. But he felt like he was pushing things, Henry had to _understand_ that this was a date, right? He’d decide for himself. 

They hadn’t kissed, but he’d gotten to learn something about Henry. Something real. 

He was from the Midwest. He did jobs for the Toppats. He didn’t sound like he had a family. 

It wasn’t much, but Henry had been an enigma to him for so long that even that put stars in Charles’ eyes. 

It was something Henry _trusted_ him with. Gave to him, willingly. Henry wasn’t the type to share. He was the quiet type, except for around him and Ellie. He was mysterious, bold, flashy, smug. He kept to himself and he wouldn’t be talked into anything he didn’t want to do. 

So it just meant a whole lot to Charles that he’d give him something, alright? 

So yeah. A good week. And they were due to ship out tomorrow, if he didn’t get held back by the General, anyway. Leaving the base for good! He wondered if Henry would miss the coast. 

He was walking out from the hangars, glancing to see if any of his friends were around to bid his farewells, and he’d happened to see the thief himself looking right at him. 

He’d felt himself perk up immediately, nearly reaching to wave a hello, when his eyes fell on what exactly his companion was wearing. 

It was a coat, military-issued, a coat for an officer like himself, not an agent they shipped in covertly to take care of slightly-illegal activity. That was weird enough, but he recognized the torn-up sleeves, the rips extending up the arms. 

He’d done that a year ago when he had to be pulled from a pretty bad crash. 

That was his coat. 

That was _his_ coat. 

On Henry. 

Something about that made him feel dizzy, even more was the innocent smile on the sneak thief’s face. Like he didn’t understand why he was staring. 

Charles pointed at him, questioning. 

Henry pointed at himself, immediately, and Charles nodded. He tugged on his own sleeve, raising an eyebrow at Henry, trying to get his idea across. 

Henry looked confused and pointed back at Charles. 

No. No, that wasn’t quite it. 

Charles waved his hands, trying to start over. From the top. 

He was so bad at actual ASL. Once he’d learned that was how Henry preferred to communicate, he took it up immediately, but he always understood more than he could articulate on his own. 

I mean, it was pretty easy to guess, but the nuances were all still a puzzle to him. He’d only barely passed Spanish in high school, and he usually got really good grades. 

‘What are you doing,’ He attempted to say across the hangar, ‘What is that?’

He had the distinct feeling Henry wanted to laugh. Clearly he hadn’t gotten the signs right. 

Embarrassing. 

‘I don’t understand,’ The thief clearly signed back, ‘What is what?’ 

Goddammit. Charles fumbled, trying to think of how to say it. He saw Henry do it before, when they first arrived here, and he found it was way colder than expected. 

Funnily enough, he’d almost offered him his jacket. 

‘Coat,’ He tentatively tried. 

‘What?’ Henry just looked more puzzled. ‘What is that?’ 

Charles tried again, feeling a twitch forming in his face. 

‘Coat.’

‘No,’ The thief looked almost scolding. ‘You’re doing it wrong. What are you trying to say?’ 

Charles groaned. 

“For fuck’s sake,” He muttered at himself, taking the time to spell the word. 

‘C-O-A-T.’ 

He was at least confident in his ability at fingerspelling. 

Henry smacked his forehead in a ‘duh’ motion. 

‘Yes, I’m wearing one,’ The thief signed brightly. ‘it’s cold out.’

Charles didn’t often get frustrated so quickly. He wanted to smack his head against the hangar’s frame until he passed out.

He ran his hands through his hair, instead, trying to calm down. Try again. 

‘That,’ He signed slow, ‘Is my coat.’ 

Henry was laughing at him. He still didn’t understand, and whatever motion Charles was doing for coat, it had to be way off the mark. 

Then he realized Henry was smirking at him. 

_Oh_. His stomach swooped, a weird reaction to have for being made a fool of. Henry knew exactly what he was talking about. Exactly what he was doing. He was standing with his hands in _Charles’ coat pockets_ and taunting him from afar. 

Well not fucking today, okay? 

He marched in, back straight, trying to look like he meant business. Ellie and one of the engineers that was based out here both turned, staring at Charles as he walked up on their group. 

He didn’t lose his nerve, but he also felt like an absolute fool. 

Henry just looked smug. 

“Yeah,” He grabbed Henry by the crook of the elbow, “Excuse us.” 

And more or less he dragged the guy out of the hangar, face flaming. 

His friend came willingly, letting Charles lead him out of the hangar without a question or protest, following him around the corner out of sight or earshot. 

Somewhere they could talk. 

Henry looked completely unbothered. Unbothered, and like he knew very much that _Charles_ was bothered. And liked it. 

No, if he dwelled on that too long he was going to fuck this up for sure. To the point, then. 

“Look, I know you know what you did,” He poked Henry in the shoulder. “Why are you pretending not to understand?”

Henry was playing innocent, still, and it wasn’t fair. 

Charles always fudged his sizing so he could have jackets a size or two up. They were just more comfortable, a personal preference, and no one had said anything yet. 

It _dwarfed_ Henry and he really hadn’t expected to find it so hard to deal with that. 

Henry was tough, clever. A little too zealous sometimes but Charles would be a hypocrite if he complained. He was nearly Charles’ height, and built in a slim and masculine manner, but in the coat made too broad for Charles’ shoulders he looked…small. 

It made his heart flood with something tender, some protective, loving piece of himself that was dormant for the longest time until he’d realized what he was feeling towards Henry. 

He was smiling at him for real now, and Charles’ mouth was dry. 

“It has my name on it, Henry,” How dumb did he think Charles was? “I know it’s mine.” 

There, a crack in his smug façade. Henry looked down at the coat like he only realized he was wearing it. Charles almost threw him into a snowbank and called it done. 

“I didn’t notice,” Henry said, and Charles had yet to hear him lie aloud. 

“Wh-” Because if that was true, it meant Henry- Henry Stickmin, his brilliant, conniving little thief- had overlooked his damn name on his own damned coat. 

“You had to know it was mine when you took it,” Charles accused, and Henry didn’t dispute that. 

“Of course,” If anything, he looked offended. 

“So wait,” Charles couldn’t deal with this. He was getting confused himself. “Why are you…” He looked like he was being serious now, and that was just… “I’m confused.” 

Henry looked uncomfortable. He brought up his hands to sign, and Charles tried to shove his own brain aside and just pay attention. 

‘I knew it was yours,’ The thief’s quick fingers flit through the words with an elegant kind of ease, ‘I didn’t know other people could tell it was yours.’ 

Huh? 

That wasn’t what he was talking about. Charles almost said so, before he suddenly realized exactly what Henry was implying. 

He wore. Charles’ jacket. With Charles’ _name_. Around the base. For literally all and everyone to see. 

He had to take a moment. 

“Yeah,” He’d just worn his name around base like it was nothing, “Uh, _how_ many people have you worn that around?” 

Henry winced, signing. ‘Sorry.’ 

No, that wasn’t exactly right. That wasn’t what Charles wanted to hear. He’d tried to articulate that, but his tongue wasn’t working with his brain anymore. 

Literally everyone Henry had come into contact with that day would think they were involved. Wouldn’t question it. God, he already got teased about it night and day by everyone who’d ever seen them together, this was only going to fuel the fires. 

‘Good thing we’re leaving?’ 

Kind of, yes, but Charles didn’t want Henry to think he would be ashamed of that kind of thing or anything. Like, if they were dating, like really actually involved, they’d have to really keep it quiet. 

If it came out there was a conflict of interest, they would have grounds to split up the Triple Threat. 

But he couldn’t _say that_ because if he accidentally dissuaded Henry from addressing what Charles thought was pretty damn clear between them, he’d toss himself into the sea. 

“No, it’s okay,” He lied, reining in his self-control, ““I’ll probably hear about it some, but...yeah. It’s not a big deal.”

Not in the way Henry was thinking, anyway. 

Henry didn’t look like he believed him, and Charles knew he was caught. Henry was good at picking up on a lie and Charles wasn’t that great at lying. 

““I mean it,” He said, and thought very I-wouldn’t-mind-if-we-dated thoughts for good measure, “But uh...how the hell did you find that in my apartment?”

The smug look was back on Henry’s face. ‘I was surprised by how neat it is.’ 

Yeah, well one of them got inspections. Dick. Charles couldn’t help a smile. 

“Nothing like yours.” 

Henry lived in his room like he owned the place. He didn’t know how he kept getting away with so much shit. 

They seemed okay, though. Charles didn’t push the room, thing, though it was definitely embarrassing to think about. 

He leaned against the hangar, brushing arms with Henry like they had out on their date. 

He’d been poking around his room. He’d broken in, probably looking for something to steal to annoy him- or fluster him, if his reaction with the pickpocketing incident was anything to go by- and happened upon the coat. Decided it was worth taking. 

Something about that made his chest oozy with feelings. He carefully lay his head on Henry’s shoulder, where the other could shrug him off if needed. 

He didn’t, and Charles let the squishy feelings fester. Soak it up. Feel the slight rise when Henry breathed. It was comforting. It was unnerving. He could feel the material of his own jacket under his cheek. 

“Why my jacket?” He asked. 

Henry seemed to think about it for a second. 

“This one’s from the airship days,” He said, absolutely correct, and didn’t that just sling a brick into Charles’ stomach? “Tempting.” 

Holy shit. No wonder the guy was a thief. Although. 

“You could tell that,” He felt himself laugh, “And not notice my name was on it?” 

He felt Henry chuckle, even if he didn’t hear it. 

“I wasn’t thinking about it.” Henry played absently with one of his sleeves. “I’m right though, right?” 

“Yeah.” Charles picked at the sleeves on Henry's arms, “For sure, you are. Ruined the sleeves on a mission later that year.” 

That had been bad. The scars on his arms still hadn’t healed yet. 

“Before I got you at the Wall, though. So yeah. I was given a new one.”

Henry nodded, he could feel him against his head. This was kinda nice, honestly. Henry was warm, the air was freezing. It was a nice little difference that was somehow relaxing. Like Henry was his comfortable place. 

“Weird thing,” Henry said suddenly, something stiff in his voice, “I liked you from the beginning.” 

Charles’ pulse spiked. He tried looking up, only getting a view of his jawline. “Oh yeah?” 

Henry nearly dislodged him, then, lifting his hands to sign. Weird to see it from this angle. 

‘Yes,’ Henry’s shoulder moved with every word, ‘I trusted you, so you had to know that.’ 

Eh. Charles scrunched up his nose. 

“Well, I mean…” If they were being fair, “The General didn’t give you much of a choice. It was his idea to toss you into the airship.” 

He’d gotten that briefing literally on the way, and had worried about what kind of guy they were picking up. Some sneaky, mustachioed bad guy, something Charles’ mind had conjured up when he heard the word ‘thief’ as a child and never let go of. 

He’d gotten a good look at Henry, though, this kind of plain looking guy, totally ordinary. It felt weird to think about now, knowing what he did about Henry’s past successes and exactly how brilliant he could be when the situation called for it, but he’d been willing to give him a chance. 

‘Could have left,’ His thief explained, ‘Once I was onboard.’ 

True. They didn’t really have a recall option. 

‘Escaped with riches.’ 

Ooh. The General wouldn’t have liked that. 

‘Joined the T-O-P-P-A-T-S,’ Henry spelled out, and Charles’ heart jerked a little bit. 

Nah, he didn’t want to think about it. Imagining Henry leaving him, trading in his dark spy uniform for a top hat and gaudy accessories just…felt wrong. Bad. 

He didn’t have time to dwell on that, because Henry apparently was trying to actually kill him today. 

‘But I didn’t, I trusted you.’ And as if that didn’t make Charles’ heart ache enough- ‘And you’ve never let me down.’ 

His hand shot up to grip Henry’s arm, wanting to pull him into a bone-breaking kind of hug. He stopped himself, but his throat still constricted.

He trusted him. Even then, when he was just a voice in Henry’s ear, when he didn’t even have an emotional connection outside his general friendliness. 

He’d trusted him. And even now, after a handful of fantastic missions and a good couple failed ones…

He still felt like Charles had never let him down. 

Honestly his eyes were watering a little. If Henry asked, it was the snow. Charles didn’t cry in front of people. 

But that meant a lot to him. More than Henry knew. 

“I’m glad it was you,” Henry said aloud, in a voice so quiet it was nearly a ghost in his ears, “I’m glad I’m here.” 

Oh _Henry_. Charles struggled to get a hold of himself. 

“Hey, me too!” He tried to inject his regular cheeriness into the conversation and it just felt hollow. “Yeah. I’m…uh. I’m glad you’re here, too.” 

He honestly was super happy. Wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be, anyone else he’d rather have as a team than his two scoundrels. 

I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t here,” Henry said then, and that was a little too much. 

“Nah,” Dear God, they never had any calls quite that close, “I’m not _that_ great on missions, Hen.” 

Henry rubbed his eyes distractedly. 

“I wouldn’t stay,” He said, slower, “I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t step foot in a place like this without you.” 

Another sucker punch to the gut. Something about that just didn’t…sound right. He would still have needed a pardon, still would have had Ellie tagging along looking for something to do, but something in his desperately hoped it was true. 

“…No?” He asked, cringing at how weak it sounded. 

“Everyone knows that,” His thief told him matter-of-factly. “Everyone. Ellie, the General-”

Oh dear god, no. Nooooooo. 

“The General?!” He squeaked. 

That would be bad enough. He was a little too knowing when he talked about Henry. But he’d served with his Grandpa and if his Grandpa had ever heard anything about Henry and how much Charles was hopelessly besotted for him…

He really was going to throw himself into the ocean. 

“He knew,” Henry devastated him with the confirmation, “Only way to make me stay was to use you as bargaining.” 

Bargaining. Like bargaining chip? Like a- 

His brain short circuited. 

He shot up, nearly knocking heads with Henry. He stared, but the other wasn’t looking at him. 

He was implying…no, he was outright _saying_ … that the General got Henry to stay _by promising he could stay with Charles._

_He_ was the bargaining chip in this deal. He was why Henry was there, and why he talked Ellie into staying. The entire reason Charles had Triple Threat, had two best friends, had someone he loved working with him every day and making each great or horrible worth it…

The reason why was _him_. 

“And that worked?” He needed the confirmation. He needed to know he didn’t just make that all up in his head. Henry was willing to give it to him. 

“Of course it did.” 

Of course it did. 

Of course telling me I get to work with you is worth me leaving my lifestyle behind. 

My expensive luxuries, honing my craft, chasing that high of the chase. 

He felt that Charles was worth it. 

Humbled. That’s how he felt. Both laid low and elevated to the heavens at the same time. He hadn’t the slightest idea Henry felt like that. No clue. 

He was watching his face, trying to analyze every expression, and finally Henry decided to meet his eyes. 

He looked so unsure. Charles’ breaths came quick, involuntary, as he tried to piece all of this together with what he thought he’d known about Henry and how he felt. He’d been off the mark. And he was so glad to be so. 

Henry’s dark, crafty eyes flit down, unmistakably staring at his lips. Charles felt his smile broaden. 

“Henry?” He asked, gently, carefully, and entirely too hopefully. 

The thief jerked his gaze back up, like he’d been caught doing something wrong, only worse, because Henry didn’t usually care if he got caught doing something wrong. 

Like he was worried about it. 

He shouldn’t be. Wasn’t he being blatant enough? Charles watched the worried fret of his lips. Should he maybe-

Henry reached for him, and Charles didn’t make him ask any further. 

He moved too quickly, painfully crashing into his mouth. Henry didn’t seem to mind, laughing, and then they met for a lazy sort of kiss. 

It wasn’t as awkward as he thought it might be. Just a little, and he wouldn't call it uncomfortable. Henry kissed like he was worried he might startle him away, as if _he_ was the one prone to leaving at the first discomfort.

Charles tried to kiss him in a way that was reassuring. He wrapped his arms around him, lightly, hands brushing familiar material worn on a different body. He was here, he wasn’t going anywhere. Everything was wonderful and the kiss might be tentative but it was _good_. 

Henry pulled back but didn’t go far, a dazed, wild expression on his face. 

Charles couldn’t keep the broad grin off his own, feeling victorious. Glad. He stared into Henry’s awestruck eyes and the thief pulled him into another kiss. 

This one was surer. Warmer. Henry remembered to move his lips, he came to life, and Charles melted into his arms. How could he not? 

Henry was still clinging to him when they parted, like he was afraid the other would leave. As if Charles had the damn willpower right now, after all of that. 

“I should have kissed you on the cliffsides,” Henry admitted, fingers still woven into Charles’ sleeves. 

He couldn’t help but laugh. 

“I thought you might!” He’d put an awful lot of thought into that. “I was kinda hoping maybe you’d get the right idea." 

He’d felt a wild sort of strong. Contentment. Joy. Up there on the cliffsides, watching the sea and listening to music. He had expected it, honestly, he thought at several points Henry must have thought about it. 

“I was enjoying it,” The thief sounded sheepish. “I didn’t want to ruin it.” 

Oh. “Yeah?” 

So he felt the same thing. Charles had watched Henry stare contently out to the sea and it meant something to him. It had meant something to Henry, too. He’d done an okay job after all. 

“Then I don’t mind at all,” He promised, heart flooding. It was worth it. 

Henry was staring at him, thinking. He could see it behind his eyes, the devious sort of wheels turning that promised both great fun and trouble. 

He stepped back, out of Charles’ arms, but he immediately reached for his hand. 

Charles slipped his fingers between Henry’s, and that was nice. 

He leaned back against the hangar, smiling fondly at the thief. He needed a moment. That was fine. Whatever baggage Henry was carrying around, he was trying to deal with it and Charles was a patient guy. And Henry apparently knew he was here for him if he needed it, so. 

So it was a nice day. 

Charles had been having a nice week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I'm going to be rewriting Charles' POV for the whole story. 
> 
> Love you goofballs. Enjoy another chapter.


	3. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you asked, so here you are.

Charles would say that, after a decade spent in the Army, he really didn’t become ‘scared’ anymore. 

Sure, he was aware of dangers when they cropped up during missions. It happened occasionally, especially when he was moved exclusively under Galeforce to serve by keeping the Toppats in check. 

But in these cases, he knew what to do. His adrenaline would spike and his mind would slow, quit it’s frantic and excitable leaping from one topic to another to flow from problem to solution. Give him an order, he’ll see it done, without a whit of panic or a change in tone. 

So when Henry’s voice came over the coms, telling him they were found out and trapped in the middle of the building, he simply ordered them to leave the center area and let him break them out. 

He had no plan other than get them out, they’d figure out how to get back later. Call for another pickup, like when they were stranded at the mall. No big deal. He had a plan. 

He’d hit the building hard, but he hadn’t expected it to cave in like that. 

He had abandoned the aircraft, letting it be used as a battering ram, smashing into the building directly. He’d staggered to his feet and the rotor blades screamed against metal beams, and there was a blast. 

Charles froze, heated wind whipping at his jacket, as the front of the building fell away from itself like a warm cake. 

He was running before he even processed what was happening. Protocol was to step back, ask for backup, and keep away from the structure. 

Charles didn’t give two fucks about protocol right now. 

He went for the only intact wall connected to the caved-in disaster, standing on the sills of windows and heftily pulling himself upwards. 

Ellie and Henry were silent, not a single sound came over his headset, and Charles was afraid. 

Up on the third floor, he shimmied along the decorative eaves towards the new opening in the building. His gun was still belted to his side, and he was probably going to be the only one in this fight even if they were okay. Ellie liked to fight close up and Henry’s aim needed help. He was going to be responsible for whatever happened next. 

Charles leapt the six feet into the open floor, sliding on the incline. 

The manor was way less cool looking inside than out, but that might be because it was in pieces. The main floor was at a 30 degree angle, his boots keeping him from skidding all the way down but only barely. There were shocked Toppats everywhere, like ants in an anthill. 

Charles flit from hat to hat, weapon aimed, unsure on whether to start firing immediately or find his crazy thieves or just scream like a feral man because _fuck_ they’d really cocked this up.

“Ellie?” Henry’s voice was so weak he didn’t recognize it the first time. “Ellie?”

Charles’ heart was in his throat. He grit his teeth, moving down the tilted floor around the corner, splintered wood showering onto his jacket and into his hair. Was it the hallway? It was split slightly from the main room, boards broken in like a fan. 

“Ellie!” Henry was nearly screaming. Charles’ blood was hot in his veins. 

“Henry?!” He swooped around the corner, ignoring the groaning of the floor underneath him. Whoever had him, they had made a final-

Henry was shoved against the floor, lip bleeding and forehead scuffed like he had a friction burn. That wasn’t what made his heart freeze in his chest or his vision tunnel dangerously.

Standing above him was a scruffy sort of man that Charles recognized from the high-risk individuals to bring it at all costs. The guy had a shoot-on-sight order and the pilot had his weapon pointed directly. 

He didn’t take the shot. 

The Right Hand Man of the Clan had a gun to Henry’s head. His cool, unwavering gaze dared Charles to try it. See what happened. 

His mouth felt like his tongue was made of cotton. 

Henry was staring at him, dark eyes blown wide with terror. He said something, but Charles couldn’t hear him. All he heard was a whining, the warbling of pure panic. 

He didn’t move. He could see his fingers trembling. 

He hadn’t had a panic attack since he was in high school. This feeling, this sick, falling sort of drop in his chest and stomach, had been what preceeded it. He needed to calm down. 

Henry was staring at him. Charles looked back, could only watch helplessly. 

There was something hopeful in that look. Something that absolutely broke his heart. Henry wanted him to help, and Charles had nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

If he tried to shoot, Henry might get shot and he definitely would. He didn’t dare look but he was willing to bet at least one of the dozen Toppats around had a weapon trained on him. They needed him, he had to stay alive, but that meant his hands were tied and they were all dead anyway. 

The Toppat leader was speaking directly to Henry. Charles couldn’t hear him and his moustache was making it too hard to read his lips. 

Sweat was dripping down his neck, the heat was pouring in the open walls. The freezing cold of panic was leaving him, but they were still between a rock and a hard place, here. Charles didn’t see any way to give. 

Henry looked back at him, an apology in his eyes before he even opened his mouth. 

“Charles,” Henry was breathing hard, he could see him laboring to even inhale, “Gun down.”

The pilot didn’t move. His arms ached and his mind was whirling. 

Gun down. Was he insane? 

“Gun down, boy,” The Toppat leader barked, “And we’ll put away ours.”

Not a fucking chance. He tried to get that across to Henry, a knowing sort of look, if he lowered his gun he’d lose all the leverage they had. The threat against their leader was the only thing keeping everyone in check. 

“Charles,” His thief licked bloody lips, “Look at Ellie.”

Ellie. 

He hadn’t seen her. Wherever she was, he missed it, and his fingers were going numb. What happened to Ellie?

“You need to get Ellie out of here,” Henry shifted and was pushed back against the floor, igniting Charles’ blood again, though the thief didn’t even seem to notice. “Get her home. Get her help.”

“Henry,” His jaw hurt from clenching it. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t move. They were caught, Henry, couldn’t you understand that? 

“She might…” The brilliant thief looked more terrified than he’d ever seen before. “She might be dead, Charles.” 

His stomach dropped through the floor down to the vault itself. 

He didn’t dare tear his eyes away, afraid the man would take that split second to shoot Henry in the head, but the urge to look around made the muscles of his back twitch. 

Ellie. She was tough, she was sturdy, to be honest, Charles had never worried about her as much as Henry. When it came to being self-sufficient, he had a lot more faith in Ellie’s abilities to avoid trouble than Henry’s. 

She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. At any moment she was going to swing in, driving something stolen, and mow down the majority of Toppats in the group to tell them what fools they were. 

The thief’s voice cracked, bringing his haze mind back: 

“I need you to take her home.”

Charles swallowed.

“I’m going to go with them,” Henry’s voice was so careful, like he was afraid Charles would lose it. “And I’ll be fine.”

No. No, this couldn’t happen. It had been years since one of his missions went so bad, he’d done so good with protecting them, keeping them safe, and they’d been in scrapes but they’d gotten through them together. This couldn’t be it. 

“You and the girl walk away,” The redhead Toppat spoke so coldly it made his blood boil. “We just need Henry.”

“I’ve got a plan,” Henry was looking at him when he glanced back down. “I’ve got it, this time.”

Charles was losing it. His hands were shaking, he was sweating, his fingers felt like they would slip at the trigger at any moment. Ellie might be dead. Henry was going to die. So was Charles. 

“Please.” 

The word shot itself through Charles like an arrow, causing him to drag in a breath like a dying man. 

“Please, please,” Henry begged him, every inch of his face pleading with him, “Charles.”

His hands were already lowering, chest burning. 

“Put the gun down.”

This was it. The end of the Triple Threat. 

Was it any consolation that they’d all die together? Charles kept eye contact with Henry, trying to tell him what he was thinking. He was sorry. He should have done better. They all really royally fucked up. 

Too afraid to bend down, his gun dropped through his hands and he braced himself for the burn of bullets. 

The Toppat leader made a waving motion and Charles was still staring at Henry. 

Was this the last thing they’d see? Each other?

And then the thief was dragged to his feet, in a manhandling kind of way that made him flinch. 

“Get Ellie,” Henry threw over his shoulder, voice absolutely frantic. “Charles, please. Make sure she’s okay.”

He was being led away. Charles’ first instinct was run after him, bodily toss the older man aside and grab Henry’s hand. Run. 

He turned his head, stiffly, looking over around the building like a man shell-shocked. 

Toppats were staring at him, like he was something repulsive. 

He would have shot them in the face without hesitation. He met their eyes and hoped they knew that. Every one he saw. If they so much as scratched Henry, he’d be on the warpath. Now it was personal. 

What he couldn’t see was a shock of red hair. A firecracker personality in one of the most capable people he’d ever had on his team. 

“Ellie?” His own voice was quiet, soft, almost childlike. His heavy feet finally unstuck from the floor, leading him through an aimless path through the broken story. 

Toppats were everywhere. Some brushed past him to get to the tilted hallway and he didn’t feel it at all. 

“Ellie?” Talking, being audible in a room full of Toppats was so surreal. Like a dream. 

A scrawny looking sort of guy pointed, down, skittering away with an armful of rolled canvas. 

Charles looked down to the stairs and if he thought he couldn’t feel any worse, he’d been wrong. 

Ellie was lying on the stairs, arms draped, face down. She looked absolutely tiny, surrounded by broken wood and ceiling debris. 

Charles jogged, legs numb, to the end of the hall and swung himself down. He dropped, about eight feet, stumbling as he landed hard on the stairs and nearly fell. 

He reached for the banister to steady himself, gaining an handful of splinters that he’d discover later. 

“Ellie!” Charles called to her, stooping down by her body with a careful sort of gentleness. 

He rested a hand on her back, reaching for a pulse with the other, and thank everything good on the earth, her body was rising and falling with each breath. 

“Come on, Ellie,” Charles brushed her hair back, too afraid to try and move her, “It’s Charles. Can you hear me?” 

She stirred, weakly, and he could finally breathe. 

“Hey, buddy,” He could hear Toppats shouting to each other, tossing things across the gaps and picking up their injured. “I need to get you out of here. What’s hurt?” 

“Dij’ou just call me buddy?” Ellie mumbled from under her hair. 

“Yeah,” Charles laughed in a relief. “I did. Know who I am?” 

“Yeah.” The confidence and chill was just drained from her voice. She sounded vulnerable.

“Can you get up?” 

Ellie shifted, immediately going limp like a puppet cut from strings. 

There was blood on the stairs. Charles stared, having to take deep breaths once again. 

“Okay,” He said, resting a hand on his companion’s back, “It’s alright. I’ll get us out of here.” 

He could promise that to her, at least.

Charles had already clicked the button for request for recovery, there was nothing left to fo. For now, all he could was to go for the first-aid kit and be left to sit next to her to try and stop the bleeding. Toppats filed around them but no one gave him a second look. He wasn't sure Ellie even noticed

“Henry?” Ellie asked him, pale face streaked with blood the color of her lipstick, and Charles smiled at her.

“He’s alright,” He told her. “We’ve got a plan.” 

There was no plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Psst...I sometimes do requests. If you have something you'd like to read, you can ask me on my Tumblr by the same name.


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